Home : World War II : United States Army Air Forces :

93rd Bomb Group

B-24Ds of the American pioneer 93rd Bomb Group climb through 21,000 feet into the light of the early morning sun. On this day, March 18, 1943, the B-24Ds, joined by B-17s and other bombers, crossed the East Coast of England en route to their target, the submarine base at Vegesack, Germany. This first mission to Germany for the 93rd Bomb Group proved that daylight bombing could be carried out successfully in the face of German defenses.

S.O.S. "Save Our Ship"

With all of the modern communications technology that is available today, the military services are not even using Morse Code anymore. It was used internationally as a method of sending messages via telegraph lines or radio. By using a siniple code of dots and dashes for the alphabet and numerals, a telegrapher or radio operator could click a key to transmit a message.

At radio operator/mechanic school in Sioux Falls, SD, we were taught the theory of radio, built a crystal radio receiver, equipment repair, and sending/receiving of Morse Code. Some of the students couldn't master the 18 words per minute and were sent to the Infantry. They never told us during our training that the International Distress signal of S.O.S. meant "Save Our Ship." Some Navy radio operators probably made that up, but it was easy to remember.

While we were doing our air crew training on B-24s at Westover Field, MA, one phase of the program was to do a night mission by instruments only. We flew over tlre Allantic Ocean toward our destination of Cape Hatteras Island, NC. Our navigator directed the course, and at the estimated time of arrival, we looked out and saw the lighthouse shining at Hatteras. All of the crew let out a cheer for a successful trip and congratulated our navigator.

Now back to Westover as charted by our "hero." The gunners in the waist of the airplane all curled up and went, to sleep. I noted that the radio reception was getting more static and interference as we headed north to our base. The weather pattern was changing from a balmy breeze to some turbulent skies. The further we went, more overcast and undercast clouds were encountered.

The navigator finally informed the pilot that he was not sure where we were, and apparently we were off course. Our pilot saw a black hole ahead and said he would go into it to see if we could visually identify our location. Sudderrly, he realized that it was not a hole in the clouds, but a top of a mountain sticking up above the undercast. He pulled up just in time to just clip some tree tops that shouldn't have been there, if we were on course.

Now we were lost and running low on fuel from such a long trip. The next command was for me to do something, even though I couldn't hear anything above the atmospheric interference. I sent the distress message, S.O.S., and informed our base station that we were lost and almost out of gas.

Twisting the dials around, I faintly heard my call sign and acknowledgment that my message was received. We use abbreviations to save time in transmissions called "Q" signals; this response included QBD. Since there are so many signals available, we were required to remember the most freqruently used ones.

I grabbed my blue field manual to check on the QBD, and it meant; to switch on the IFF system to the distress position. This was an added "Q" signal after the Air Force developed and installed this emergency equipment in our planes. It had a red switch on a box with two buttons. One button would turn it on, but if you pressed both buttons, it would destroy the system to keep from falling into enenry hands.

By triangulation, they located out plane and sent our latitude and longitude. After confirmation, and a big "thank you," the navigator got to work and we were on our way back to the base. It was a great sight to see the lights of the field and the snow coming down.

I think we ran out of gas as we taxied to our pad, so you know how close we were to disaster. Another crew on this same training trip was not so lucky. They apparently hit one of those mountain peaks. Searching for them was delayed for three days due to the bad weather. The entire crew was killed except for one gunner, who was frostbitten when rescued and became one of those paraplegic cases. With radio silence while on missions with the 93rd Bomb Group over Germany, I thankfully never had to use the distress signal again.

Leo Hebert. S.O.S. "Save Our Ship". The Journal 2nd Air Division. Volume 44 Number 3, Fall 2005.

The Trailing Wire Antenna

The trailing wire antenna is one type of radio antenna found on a B-24 Liberator bomber. It is used for long range radio transmission on medium or low frequencies. It is 150 feet of fine, flexible copper wire wound around a spool type reel and weighted at the trailing end by a 10-pound lead weight. When not in use the weighted end fits flush against the fuselage on the undercarriage of the bombers. When long-range transmission is necessary, the reel type mechanism, located in the radio compartment, is cranked out so that the weighted wire trails below and behind the plane. The training manual reads, "know your length of antenna with which you are operating. Full transmission may save the life of your crew."

Now let me take you back in time to where this story begins. It's September 30, 1944. The war in Europe is going well against the Nazis. On this day our plane, a B-24 heavy bomber called Ma's Worry, will lead the 2nd Air Division of the 8th Air Force to a target in Harum, Germany. Major Brown and Captain Spencer of the 409th Squadron, 93rd Bomb Group will be the lead pilots. This bombing mission will be our 17th.

My duties as a radio-operator gunner during this eight-hour mission will be to send and receive coded messages to Division Headquarters in England. Takeoff and assembly from our base at Hardwick went well. With the group together we crossed the English Channel at 08:00 hours. Flying over enemy territory at 25,000 feet we picked up heavy flak on the bonib run and over the target. After the bombs were dropped on the target, it was time for me to send a strike report back to our base in England. For this long-range transmission I cranked out the trailing wire antenna to its fullest length. With the bombs gone and the plane much lighter, our air speed must have increased. The training manual warned us not to reel out the antenna if the air speed exceeds 240 mph. This could have been the cause of the problem that now plagued me.

With the transmission completed, I proceeded to reel the wire into my radio compartment. About one quarter of the way in, the wire became a tangled, twisted mess on the spool of the reel. There was no way I could reel the wire in any further. Over 100 feet of twisted line trailed helplessly behind the bomber. I tried feverishly to untangle the twisted mess. Working with heavy gloves on made it very difficult. I couldn't dare remove them because of the sub-zero cold, my fingers would have stuck fast to the metal wire.

Over the loud noise of the plane's engines, I could hear the bursts of flak and the thump of the 50 caliber machine guns fired by our gunners as the German fighter planes flew through our formation. World War II was going on around me as I worked to free this bloody wire. I imagined l could see the damn weighted wire swinging and swaying below our bomber and tinally crashing into the flight deck of the plane below us. That could really hurt somebody. Needless to say it, would cause great concern to the pilot and crew off the other bomber.

I could also visualize the wire getting caught and winding around the turning props of the bomber below us, thus causing the right side of our plane's fuselage to be ripped apart. This could result in the loss of our plane as well as the whole crew. If the crew ever found this out they would kill me.

The radio operator's manual states, "WARNING: The trailing wire antenna must be reeled in before landing." If we land with that turkey trailing behind us, there's a good possibility that the bastard may bounce off of the runway and come crashing through the waist window inflicting serious injuries upon our tail gunner. Walter Borland would never forgive me if I let a thing like that happen.

I reached a decision: "I must cut the wire and release the antenna from the plane. Consider first what might happen when you drop that heavy weight on the innocent people below. Don't be an idiot, for God's sake. You're worried about dropping a 10-pound weight when your bomber just released three tons of bombs? Besides, this is war: that's not cream puffs they're shooting at you. What about the bomber flying on your wing, taking a direct hit and going down in flames? Don't forget about your last pass in London. Remember how those buzz bombs and V-2s kept you awake all night? Cut the damn thing and get back to your duties."

The pilot called me on the intercom. In a loud voice he says, "What the hell are you doing? Have you sent in that strike report?" Now I am really nervous. Hope he doesn't find out what's going on. He has enough trouble trying to feather the prop of a dead shot up engine. "My God, that burst of flak was close. I have got to take this flak suit off." It's sixty degrees below zero, but I am sweating like a bull. It's a good thing I am on oxygen: my breathing is rapid. Better turn up the valve a little.

Wham! Flak hits the dome of the top turret gun; plexiglass comes falling down around me. I look up into the turret where Neadue, the engineer, is sitting. I fear the worst, but he is okay. The shrapnel passed through the dome and hit Ned in the flak helmet.

Once again I look at the tangled mess of wire and realize the situation has not gotten any better. Kelly the navigator calls me on the intercom and wants a position report. Now I have got to cut the wire and switch to the fixed wire antenna. With a firm grasp on the wire with pliers, I apply the right amount of pressure and cut the wire. In a flash the end of the wire disappeared and along with the heavy weight fell to earth.

Again my imagination began to run away with me. I visualized the weight crashing through a huge round stained glass window in an ancient old cathedral somewhere in Germany. ln a few seconds I have destroyed a work of art that has endured for centuries. Then again it may drop onto an oil refinery, blow up a muntions dump, or discharge and interrupt a German Field Marshal in his endeavors to secure a beautiful young maiden.

Anyway, its gone and good riddance. it will be a cold day in hell before I use that damn antenna again. All in all it was a successful mission. We destroyed the target and the group returned with minimum casualties. Although there is no evidence in the files or the record books of the 8th Air Force that any of these events or happenings ever took place, I believe that after I released that trailing wire antenna I should have received some credit for saving our plane from destruction and possibly the lives of our crew. Destroying the oil refinery and blowing up a munitions dump is doubtful and would be difficult to prove. I would like to take credit for pulling that oversexed German Field Marshal out of his misery. And the stained glass window, well, it was probably broken anyway.

After all these years I wondered what ever happened to that leaded weight and where it finally ended up. I am not really sure, and I would not swear to it, but when I watched President Reagan and the German Chancellor walk through the SS military cemetary in Bitburg, Germany, for a second l thought I saw, hanging in the background, a rusted old trailing wire antenna weight with a twisted length of tarnished copper wire hanging peacefully from a huge tree limb in the cemetary.

Michael J. Donahue (93rd). The Dilemma of the Trailing Wire Antenna. The Journal 2nd Air Division. Volume 45 Number 1, Winter 2006.

D-Day: The Air Battle In the weeks and months leading up to D-Day, the USAAF and the RAF waged a concerted campaign against fighter bases, troop depots, road and rail junctions and ammunition and fuel dumps, targeting the Luftwaffe's ability to repel the liberating forces. This book, based on thorough research of original documents, tells the story of the Normandy Invasion's air campaign.

---

top of page

back a page